Dust Bowl Dance
by seaweed and wise
Summary: The Argo II: An organisation home to the best and brightest criminals in the Western World. Now... chuck in a hunter, an assassin, flames (both old and new), unforgotten grudges and Jason Grace's helicopter... it's no wonder that Percy and Annabeth have decided to dip their toes in water as clear as mud and set off a chain reaction that can't be stopped.
1. Chapter 1

**This is an Alternate Universe fanfiction, wherein there are no Olympians or Camp Half-Blood; though many characters from said groups should make an appearance. The Seven are central in this fic, as are a few select characters that have played quite significant roles during both the PJO and HOO series. However, for now all you're getting is Percy and Annabeth (though I fail to see how that could_ ever_ be a bad thing).**

**Disclaimer: Uncle Rick and the 1975.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

_"__Well, now that you've got your **gun**__/__It's much harder now the police have come__/__Now **shoot him** if it's what you ask__/__But if you just take off your **mask**__/__You find out everything's gone **wrong, wrong, wrong**.__"_

* * *

They had their routine perfected by now.

The fine twist of wire remained straight and strong between his leather-coated fingertips. His prior doubts were swiped clean from his mind as he watched a lithe, blonde blur speed past him and land softly on the tiles below. Her flat shoes hopping nimbly between podiums and over suspicious looking footlights, as she slowly made her way towards what was obviously their intended target.

The 'Master Bolt' didn't look nearly as spectacular as he had previously imagined.

Sure, the strange, blue glow that seemed to eminate from the crystal certainly was captivating, but not nearly as much as the stormy grey irises that bore into his own at that very moment, screaming _hurry the fuck up_.

Percy nodded, slipping down the last few feet and coming to a land on the floor – in a manner that wasn't quite as graceful as Annabeths. But that was always the way, right? There was something far more entrancing and elegant about the way she moved, the tips of her toes twisting in a meticulously thought out dance. His attention was drawn back to the situation at hand as she pointed at a particular tile to the right of their target, mouthing the word _trick_. Nodding once more, Percy followed her delicately cut path (stepping over the aformentioned tile, of course) and made his way toward the raised podium in the center of the cavernous room.

Her quirked lips were parallel to his own as two pairs of eyes were drawn to the large, bolt-shaped hunk of unidentifiable crystal that lay between them. It seemed that Hazel (along with many of their unreliable sources), amidst her immediate excitement, had hammed the blue piece of overrated rock up a notch or two. Percy couldn't see the attraction, but he certainly couldn't let anyone else have it.

Carefully dipping his hand into the space between them, Percy's glove closed around the crystal, raising it up to eye level and rotating it in the air. He let out a low whistle, which Annabeth promptly scowled at him for. It certainly weighed a tonne, though he would never admit such a thing.

In a single move, Annabeth had the specially designed case cracked open so that Percy coud slip the crystal in, snapping it shut at the precise moment five hulking security guards opened the heavy metal doors and thundered across the marble tile.

Before reactions and fighting stances could be settled, Annabeth grabbed the handle of the case and held it tightly in her hand, running the few feet between her and Percy and placing her foot into his readied palms as she flew upwards, but not quite as high as the case that landed on the roof with a _clunk_.

She landed with a smooth tumble and immediately leapt to her feet, her back straight against Percy's as they circled slowly, eyeing each of their opponents up and succeeding in their attempts to appear intimidating.

Annabeth didn't need to look to know that Percy had drawn his sword, his green eyes menacing in the chamber's dim light. Her own dagger felt familiar and cold in her hand, though the splash of blood that soon coated it ensured that the bronze was now in a luke-warm state. The sharp tip plunged into the ribs of yet another guard as she ducked one of Percy's wide-sweeps and spun around to face him.

Their eyes met for short moment: "Three down." Before Percy sidestepped and Annabeth grabbed an arm from behind her, flipping one of the remaining attackers over her shoulder and turning away to face off the last one as the slice of a blade through flesh sounded from behind her.

"This is only the first, you know." Annabeth couldn't help but note the way each syllable oozed with admiration. Admiration for the black brief case that dangled precariously from the ceilings edge; his large, glazing eyes hadn't left it once. The man that faced them could barely keep himself up straight, his left hand trembling over the holster of his knife. Something that looked horribly out of place next to his security flashlight. "The beginning o- "

Before he could put an end to his sentence, Annabeth heard the all-too-familiar sound of a certain three foot long sword piercing through the gut of the dying man before her. No, she hadn't the time to strangle Percy where he stood. There was no point in doing so until she got the satisfaction of one-upping him at the very last second.

Even from here, she could see the slow and fading rise and fall of the man's chest.

Forgetting entirely about the trick tile that blocked her path, Annabeth made a beeline for the him, crouching down next to his blood-seeping form and tugging him up by the collar of his previously white shirt.

"The beginning of _what_, exactly?" she all but growled, bringing his face up to hers; almost nose to sweaty nose.

She would hear a huff of anger from behind her, the scuffling of _Chuck's_ on marble, and the last breaths of the man dying in her sweaty palms. But not before she heard the two simple words that would fuel her mind with infatuation and fury for many weeks after:

"The end."

* * *

**Reviews are like a fresh tray of Sally's blue cookies.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry for the wait – this chapter took longer to update than expected. But it's also longer than I had originally planned, so I hope that makes up for it. **

**Things are still quite vague at this stage, but we've got a few more characters in this chapter and there will definitely be some more in the next (alongside some more background and a bit of pick-up in the plot).**

**For now, enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Uncle Rick and Two Door Cinema Club.**

* * *

"_There's a spanner in the works, __**you know**__/You gotta __**step up**__ your game to make it to the top/So go/Gotta little __**competition**__ now/You're going to find it hard to __**cope**__ with living on your own now/Oh oh, oh oh."_

* * *

If the sound of violent combat didn't attract attention, it seemed that putting one foot out of place did.

Annabeth cursed herself, the gods, the pair of green eyes sprinting along next to her – really, anything she could think of, because if there was one thing Annabeth wasn't known for, it was stupidity. Apparently, people didn't know her as well as she had originally thought.

As soon as her light steps hit the trick tile, a blaring alarm rang throughout the cavernous room, signalling to someone somewhere that the Master Bolt was no longer as safe as originally believed. Percy and Annabeth took no time in attaching themselves to Leo's specially designed wires, zipping back up to the open ceiling vents and out on to the empty roof.

She could have hit him then, but her more rational side took over and instead Annabeth chose to propel forward, the Master Bolt shut tightly in the metal casing between her fingers. Her footing did not fault whatsoever and she leapt over ventilation ducts, Percy in tow; his breaths even and in sync with her own. A fatal leap lay ahead and they jumped it with ease, not stopping for fear of the backup that were, no doubt, tailing them across the buildings. But Annabeth's feet didn't feel heavy – not in the slightest. After years of practice she was beyond the level of fitness required to run the length of several buildings with a crystal that weighed a tonne, while being chased by authorities. The entire time, Percy was right next to her, or ploughing ahead to form an easier route for them both. It was as easy as putting one foot in front of the other and never looking back, for fear of being identified as the thieves of what was – supposedly – the greatest thing to appear on the black market in a _very _long time.

Somewhere in the distance, Annabeth heard the sounds of blades tearing through the air. This only made her run faster, ducking her head just in time to dodge a bullet that shot at her from behind. Next to her, Percy cursed the gunman and reached for his sword. Annabeth would have told him to put it away but there was nothing wrong with taking extra precautions.

The sound continued to echo its way through her mind, accompanied by a heavy whip of wind that could have blown her off her feet if not for the determination that had set itself in her gut to get the hell away from any more signs of trouble.

Straight ahead, at the far end of the building that lay parallel to them, an unmarked helicopter hovered. They had their target and would have reached it if not for the snap of several more bullets shooting their way towards Annabeth and Percy.

Annabeth's reflexes kicked in and she ducked her head, continuing towards the 'copter. She had nearly made it – her foot on the freshly carpeted floor and her hand on the cool, metal bar – when she heard a yelp that could only have sounded from the extraordinarily large gob of Perseus Jackson.

What she turned to find left a sickening lurch in her gut that she would never ever admit to have felt. She could hear bullets firing in her defence, and maybe they were what brought her back to reality.

In a flash, Annabeth was across the roof, draping Percy's arm over her shoulders as more guards gained on them. She didn't know who fired the shot at her colleague and, frankly, she didn't care. All she cared about was getting him and that damn case back to the 'copter before anyone received a fatal wound.

And she supposed she was lucky that they made it (not without some creepy ankle-grabbing and badly-aimed shots). Also that Jason took some initiative and decided to fire his own round of bullets, all from the cushy front seat. The look he gave Annabeth evidently said _hurry the fuck up_, but she hardly had time for Jason's impatience when there was an irate, wriggling man trying to escape her support and fight for himself. Of course, Jason was right and they did indeed need to hurry the fuck up. Fighting back would do no good now, all that mattered was getting Percy and his wobbly leg across the two metres that they needed to cover in order to hop in the helicopter and fly off. Which was why, by the time one of the men approached her – a _smirk_ on his face, of all things – she was pretty sick of this bullshit and snatched Percy's sword from his belt; promptly slicing across the man in a way that _had_ to have been fatal.

Not sparing a second or even a glance behind her, Annabeth ran as fast as she could with a six foot, two inches tall man leaning on her, and leapt into wide-open door of the pitch-black helicopter. It seemed Jason was feeling even more impatient than she had originally thought, seeing as he hadn't even waited for her to close the door before he took off, not flinching as shots were fired at the bullet-proof shields Leo had put in place.

It was those loud, but fading, clangs that brought Annabeth back to her senses as she immediately grabbed a medical kit from under one of the seats and sat herself next to Percy.

His features had hardened and turned as white as snow, his left calf leaving ruby-red patches of blood on the cream carpet. The wound wasn't deep, but the bullet was still embedded in his flesh which meant that Annabeth needed her knife and plenty of bandages.

A hiss of pain caught the attention of Jason: "Is it bad?"

"Not nearly as bad as he's making it out to be." Annabeth discarded the bullet, applying pressure with a one bandage while she used wrapped the other around Percy's leg.

"Hey! I haven't complained; not even once." Percy said, entirely offended by her attempt at teasing. But he wasn't looking so bad. The sheen of sweat that ran across his brow was surely similar to her own and despite the three inches of misshapen flesh in his leg, he was looking fairly chipper. "I've had worse."

"Oh, spare me your war stories _at least _'til we get back to headquarters." Percy scowled at her comment. "Speaking of: any word from Hazel yet?"

"Nothing from her." Jason's voice crackled over the speakers and the loud –but muffled (thanks again to Leo) – chopping sound from above. "Frank said she's still holed up in the lab, abusing Leo's computer skills, and that Piper's been hearing things left, right and centre. None of them reliable, obviously."

Though none of what Jason told her helped in any way at the moment, she still appreciated his talent in relaying information. Things had come to this rather rapidly. Their first sign of something important approaching being that Hazel had heard murmurs and mutterings uttered from several geologists that signalled the purchase _and _display of an apparently incredibly precious crystal. Piper, hearing her news from the other end of the stick, had attacked this new intel with as much vigour as Hazel, wondering why on earth everyone had suddenly become so frantic over a "hunk of blue rock". Still, if everyone else was so hell-bent on getting their mitts on this "hunk of blue rock" then the crew of the Argo II were going to make sure each and every one of those petty criminals walked away empty-handed. And, as far as Annabeth could tell from tonights results, it didn't look like anyone but Hazel would get to examine the crystal for a long while.

Of course, they could have been a little more... careful that evening – some more than others – but Percy would heal up in no time and, according to Jason, there was no one on their tail.

Within a few more minutes they had arrived at the Bunker 9 – a large cave that lay amidst mounds of rock and forest, right next to a field of Strawberries on Long Island Sound. The only sound that could be heard in the area was that of the helicopter landing and the slight creak of the ceiling doors sliding open. This came as a suprise to no one, considering many would use their common sense and avoid a questionably safe forest in the middle of nowhere.

Annabeth stood at the sound of the metal doors shutting tight above them. Gathering up the medical supplies and placing them back under the seat (she'd only get saddled with doing it later – a stitch in time saves nine, afterall), she grabbed the case, gently tossing it to Jason, who had already removed his headset and was now making his way towards the pavillion.

She had extended a hand towards Percy, only to find that he was hobbling his way over to the helicopter doors, sliding them open and trying to think of the wisest method in ascending. Blowing a strand of hair from her face, Annabeth came up behind him, placing her arm around his waist and ensuring his was draped across her shoulders, and took him towards the pavillion; one step at a time.

The amount of times she and Percy had landed themselves in situations such as these were countless. Never truly escaping without a scrape or a broken bone. "Practice makes perfect" is what she had always been told, and sure, Annabeth's job became easier as the years progressed, but it was far from perfect; not even scratching the surface of "pretty cool".

Once they had arrived at the pavilion and Percy had sat himself in one of the swivel chairs, propping his leg up on another, Annabeth headed up the flight of metal stairs, crossing the catwalk and hoping that Piper or someone would stitch Percy up while she had a word with Hazel.

The second floor was exactly where Annabeth had expected to find the eighteen year old in question, but she had not expected to find her pacing across the metal grates, a deep frown set along her dark brow.

Hazel jumped: "Oh, Annabeth! Jason said you would be along." She ushered Annabeth towards her table in the centre of the lab, gazing intently at the crystal that rested upon it – white sheet, bright light, petri dishes, the works.

Really, Annabeth hadn't had time to catch a good look at the object she had risked her neck stealing. What with all the shooting and stabbing, Annabeth barely had time to register the sheer magnificence of it – electric blue, smoothly cut until around halfway down when it angled diagnolly and formed the shape of...

"Zeus' Master Bolt." Hazel sighed, in exasperation more than admiration. "We may very well get to figure out what all this fuss is over."

Annabeth couldn't agree more, because even if it turned out to be nothing but a cheap museum gimmick it was still_ their_ cheap museum gimmick, and they could have it with the knowledge that several others wanted it.

"Anything particularly striking about it?"

"Well, other than the fact that it's worth more than Zeus himself, no, nothing so far." Hazel's golden eyes focused on the object, looking through all the information she could receive with the naked eye. "I'll have to run a few tests. But nothing concrete until Leo shows his face – this computer is either incredibly sick or just hates my guts."

A small laugh escaped Annabeth's lips as she reached out to run a finger along the smooth surface. The entire situation left her nothing short of perplexed, especially considering the onslaught of guards that had attacked them. It would lead her to believe that the rumours of the crystal being on high-demand were true, but none would have been prepared enough to integrate themselves into the security staff and plough into the exhibit room with knives and guns strapped to their belts. Which meant that another, particular enemy of theirs must have been up to it, something she would have to discuss with Jason later; once she could find out where he had scattered off to.

"Right, well I'm going to go and check on the patient." Annabeth nodded her head towards the staircase, grasping onto the railing with her cold hands. "Keep me posted?"

"Sure thing." Hazel's eyes never left the crystal. "Tell Percy that there's some painkillers in the pantry."

"Aye aye."

Annabeth back-tracked along the catwalk, pulling her gloves off by her middle finger and making her way down to where she left Percy. What she found instead was an empty chair and Piper's feet, dangling over the edge or the table as she played with her choppy strands of hair.

"Where- "

Piper's fingers met her lips to silence Annabeth, and it took the blonde a moment to notice that Piper was on the phone, rolling her eyes at whatever the person at the other end of the line had to say.

"Such a pity, I know." Piper's voice _oozed _empathy; so much so that Annabeth nearly believed her. "But thank you, _really_. I appreciate what you've told me... _of course_... bye. Bye."

Piper hung up and growled in frustration as Annabeth looked on in amusement. It had been like this for a few days now: Piper cranking up telephone minutes while she perservered whining cat burglars and informants in order to get even a smidgen of information on what they hoped to acquire. Well, what they had hoped to acquire was now tucked safely in Hazel's high-security lab, so that was one item crossed off the agenda.

"Any luck?"

"If by 'luck' you mean two hours spent listening to Geryon drone on about how much he wanted that blasted rock, then yes, I've hit the jackpot." Piper said, slipping the phone into her pocket and hopping off the table. Annabeth supressed a grin.

"Where's Percy?"

"Oh, I sent him to bed." Piper explained. "After leaving the phone on the table and letting Geryon rant on about Gods know what, I had plenty of time to stitch him up."

"You gave him the painkillers too, right?" Annabeth said. She hated to imagine how difficult sleeping would be, with a healing leg and throbbing muscles. She already had one of the two and didn't fancy the former. A few painkillers would go amiss for her, either.

"Believe me, that was the very first thing I did. 'Can't say Leo getting his hand stuck in the quad engine has taught me nothing." Piper then pulled a packet of pills from her other pocket and tossed them Annabeth's way. "You look exhausted and I have more phonecalls to make."

"Thanks. Good _luck_." She sang the last word, causing Piper to swat her on the shoulder before making her way through the door and in the direction of the kitchen.

* * *

Before heading in the direction of her room, Annabeth cranked open the mini-fridge in the corner and got herself a Dr Pepper, glugging it down with one of the painkillers. And as she shut her bedroom door - smiling fondly at the sound of snoring from the next room - her shoes were kicked off and her hair was untied, just prior to her black clothes being shed. She then hopped in the shower.

Floral moisturisers and fluffy pyjamas were what she found comfort in after missions such as this. Similar to adrenaline, comfort helped her think and that was precisely what she needed at that moment in time. Because, despite their mission being mostly successful, it wasn't entirely understandable.

Sure, they had gotten what they wanted, but they honestly didn't know _why_ they wanted it in the first place. Still, they had time to find that out now, and Annabeth was certain that it wouldn't be much longer before Piper or Hazel came to some conclusion.

However, there was still the guards to explain. As Annabeth was certain that carrying knives and guns wasn't in the Nightguards' Handbook. And after Percy decided to be oh-so-helpful and slice 'n dice one of their only potentially reliable leads, she could only assume that their starting point would lead them west. Crosscountry competitors could have been the source of this over-equipped defense (and Percy getting a bullet lodged in the back of his leg), but for the moment it was all they had, and she was certain Jason could offer some assistance in her suspicions.

But Jason was probably three flights up, having 'Guy Time' with Leo or Frank. And, much as she didn't wish to admit it, Annabeth was exhausted – something that would only offer irritation to everyone in the room if they didn't suddenly come up with answers.

Resigning herself to a day or research after a good nights sleep, Annabeth sank herself deep into the covers, blocking out next-door's incredibly loud gurgling and attempting – in vain – to get some rest.

_Ugh, Jackson. Must you drool in your sleep? _


End file.
